The Best Pilot in the Resistance
by feel.that.fire
Summary: "When the Resistance had recruited Poe they had said he was the best pilot they had ever seen. He had nodded and smiled and thanked them, accepting the compliment. But he was nowhere near the best pilot. Wasn't even close. The best pilots got their teams home. By those standards, he was the worst." Poe is haunted by his worst memories after Kylo Ren invades his mind. Oneshot.
Author's note: This is a bit of tag to my other story, "He Could Fly Anything" because Poe keeps floating about in my head. Same style. Same rambling Poe. No need to read the other story, but I would love it if you did! This one really is a one-shot though. I own nothing but my mistakes. Please enjoy!

* * *

Poe woke suddenly. Within a second, he knew he had woken from one nightmare and entered another. Both were real, it was just that one had happened in the past and the other was his present situation.

He was currently strapped down in the fowler position. Not quite horizontal, feet lower than the head – fowler. He had learned that term in his Field Medicine class in flight school. _Really useful information at the moment. Thank God he had remembered that._

The cuffs were tight on his wrists and ankles, a strap around his torso, and the head rest was a just a tad too far back to use comfortably. He lifted his head and looked around, his breath still coming in short gasps – a product of the nightmare he had just woken from. He was currently alone in the dimly lit room. _Thank the stars._ The quiet was unnerving and let his thoughts wander, but it could be much worse if he had company. His head pounded – a gift from his last guest. His host. Suckiest host he ever had, and probably his worst stay. The accommodations weren't very comfortable.

He didn't know how long he had been out, but he assumed he must have passed out after Kylo Ren had used the Force to invade his mind _. BB-8. The map. Shit_. He had thought he had an understanding of the Force. Through his parent's stories and the legends in general, he had thought he knew the gist of it. But he didn't know it was strong enough to freeze a blaster mid-shot. Didn't know that it was possible to probe someone's mind. _The mind probe_ – he laughed to himself even though it really, _really_ wasn't funny.

Ren had extended his gloved hand, and Poe had felt this immense pressure in his head, and memories started to flash before his eyes. Immediately he knew what was happening, and he tried his best to think of something else. Anything else but BB-8. Flight maneuvers. His mother's mashed potatoes. The X-wing control panel. That time when he was ten years-old, when he had broken his arm while putting the ship he had made from a cardboard box into flight. Jumping off the shed's roof in that thing definitely wasn't one of his finest moments, but it was one his father always liked to tell.

But quickly it was all out of his control, and he felt intense pain, and he heard himself scream, and not only did Kylo Ren find the memory of BB-8 and the map to Skywalker, but he also brought forward the other moments Poe had tried to forget. His mother passing. His first terrifying crash landing. Missions gone wrong. And those recollections seemed to have followed him into his unconsciousness. Because that's what he had just woken from.

 _"I had no idea we had the best pilot in Resistance on board._ " The masked man had said.

 _Yeah. Sure. The best pilot in the Resistance. The pilot who got himself captured and just gave away the Resistance's only hope at victory. The best. Clearly._

Personally, Poe never thought he was the best pilot. Could he fly anything? Yeah. Could he do maneuvers others couldn't dream of? Yeah. But by his standard, Poe Dameron never considered himself the best. At least, not any time since he was a young cadet.

In flight school they had taught him the number one military piloting rule: the most important man (man, being a universal term. Please do not take offense. Any _being_ , really) in the sky was the one next to you. The unspoken mission always: get your squadmates home.

He had failed at that too many times to count. Yeah, Poe made it home every time. But his squadmates didn't always.

Slowly, as his mind wandered and beat itself up, Poe noticed that the room began to get fuzzy and was being replaced by his X-wing cockpit and black space. He was losing consciousness again and returning to a past nightmare. He tried to hold on to the present, but he was fading…

* * *

Suddenly his vision was consumed by the glass panels of his X-wing, all the controls tinted in the yellow hue of his visor, and Poe didn't even realize he was strapped to a torture table a moment ago. Currently he was in a dog fight with a TIE fighter, and to his right, one of his fellow X-wings went up in a bundle of sparks and smoke as green lasers tore through it.

This was his first combat mission, and adrenaline was pumping fast through his veins, keeping his hands from trembling on the yoke and focusing his mind on flying. He was a new member of the Resistance, and was put into Green Squadron. As a new recruit, he was Green Seven out of the eight members. Though he was enlisted with the promise of his own squadron, he wouldn't be leading anyone until he knew his fellow pilots, and how the Resistance Navy functioned.

Green and Stealth squadron had been given a mission to escort a Republic Senator who had recently spoken out against the First Order. Before the Senator and his escort had even left the atmosphere, they were swarmed by a fleet of TIEs. They had valiantly defended the Senator, who was able to jump to light speed and would be safe until he dropped out of Hyperspace, where another group of Resistance fighters was waiting to get him safely to the ground.

Meanwhile, Green and Stealth squadrons had chased the TIEs, or had been chased themselves, deeper into space. Neither Resistance nor First Order had wanted to retreat and both of their numbers were quickly dwindling. In the chaos of the encounter, Poe had no idea who was still in the air and hadn't heard from his superiors in a few minutes.

As Poe got in a damaging hit to the TIE in front of him, while also fending off one on his tail with some evasive maneuvers, his com came to life.

"This is Stealth Two. Fellow pilot's report in!"

Each pilot gave a few seconds for the pilot in front of them to report – it was their protocol in order to keep track of the squadron members. Stealth Leader must have went down. _Shit._

Poe counted in his head. _Three. Four._

"Stealth Five."

"Stealth Six."

 _Seven. Eight._ And that was the end of Stealth squadron. _Shit, again._

He started counting once more.

 _Green Leader. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six…_

"Green Seven." Poe spoke, praying he was jumping the gun on reporting. Maybe he had miscounted while he spun in order to evade a missile that had locked onto him.

"Green Eight."

"Shit." That was Cal's voice over the coms again – Stealth Two. "Green Seven, you've just been promoted. Let's see some of that fancy flying we've heard so much about. We've lost too many men not to finish this. Stealth Five, Six, stay tight on me."

Poe felt his Academy training kick in. He may not have led these pilot's before, but this was not his first time giving orders. "Green Eight, report." As the words left his mouth the TIE in front of him exploded, and his X-wing flew through the wreckage as he let out a breath.

"A little tangled up right now. I've got two on my tail."

"Hang in there, Green Eight. I'm coming."

Poe had one on his back as well, but he moved to help. He had to get his fellow squadmate out of this.

As he fainted and rounded about, Poe was able to take out his tail and had Green Eight and her two accompanying TIEs in his sights. She definitely was a fair flyer, and was doing her damn best to shake the two menacing ships. It was dangerous flying, but Poe took some shots when Green Eight was clear of his blaster's projection.

Gritting his teeth, Poe managed to take one TIE out. He was in pursuit of the second when it hit it's mark. He heard the startled scream of Green Eight over his coms. But her ship was still functioning, and a slightly panicked statement of, "I'm losing power," was quick to follow the yell.

"Transfer all power into the thrusters, Green Eight. Get out of there!" He continued to fire away at the offensive TIE with a new vengeance, knowing his squadmate did not now have the ability to flee properly.

The next few seconds were so surreal to Poe, when he would later think back on them, it was all just a swirl of horrible emotions, colors, and sounds.

One of his shots hit true. Red laser clipping the TIE's wing and sending it into an out of control spiral. A half-second of relief. Half a breath. And then he saw it bee-lining right into the slowing Green Eight.

The two ships collided and exploded in front of Poe's eyes in a violent show of red, orange ,blue and white. Poe screamed. One of his hands releasing from the yoke, and clamping over his agape mouth. He had just killed Green Eight.

Not two seconds later, in his left peripheral vision he saw flashes of green blasters and another X-wing go up in flames.

Once the ringing in his ears had subsided, Poe realized his com was silent.

Bringing both hands back on the yoke and directing his path to the two remaining TIEs on his scanners, Poe yelled into his headset.

"Stealth Squadron, do you copy?!"

Static. Static was his only response.

Holding his breath he pursued the other TIEs, bringing down one more before the last jumped to light speed. Poe cursed as the offensive ship seemed to stretch and disappear into black space.

And like a flip of a switch, the adrenaline left him.

He was breathing hard. Shaking violently. He stopped his pursuit and swiveled in his seat, looking around him, behind him, yelling into his headset.

"Does anyone copy?! _Anyone?_ Stealth Two?! Five?!"

Static. He was utterly alone.

He screamed in frustration and a few tears escaped down his face. They were gone. They were all gone. He had failed his key mission – get the man next to you home. He had personally ended his last squadmate. _Green Eight. Her name was Keira and she had dark hair_ _and she was from Coruscant and she had a younger brother who was an engineer on base. And he had heard her scream._

Poe squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. He had to get back and report. The Senator had jumped into Hyperspace safely. That was the objective.

Green Eight had smiled at him encouragingly when they had been briefed on the mission. She seemed to be a few years younger than Poe and it was her first flight under the Resistance as well.

 _"We'll celebrate with a drink when we get back, yeah?" she had said with a toothy smile as she slid on her helmet and they split up into their separate X-wings._

More like he'll drown himself, and his memories of this, in a slue of drinks when he gets back. He gets back. He. Singular. _Shit._

* * *

Poe came too with a gasp, back to his waking nightmare, with Green Eight's youthful face fading into the grey walls around him.

This nightmare was a real one though. Or, _current_ , was the better word.

Kylo Ren had called him the best pilot in the Resistance. Did he know those words stung Poe? Well, if not, he did now.

When the Resistance had recruited Poe they had said he was the best pilot they had ever seen. He had nodded and smiled and thanked them, accepting the compliment. But he was nowhere near the best pilot. Wasn't even close. Yeah sure, he could do some "fancy flying," as his squadmates had said, but that seemed to be all he was good for. The best pilots got their teams home. By those standards, he was the worst pilot. A selfish failure. Stealth and Green squadron had completed their mission and gotten Poe home. But Poe had failed each of them. Just as Poe had now failed General Organa. Just as Poe had failed BB-8. Just as Poe had pretty much failed the entire galaxy in general.

These negative thought swirled in Poe's muddled mind, before he passed out again.

The next time he woke it was to a woosh of a door and a Trooper's voice.

"Ren wants the prisoner."

And Poe was sure he was being taken to his execution now that he was no longer of service. Now that he had handed the map over on a silver platter. Poe took a deep breath and steeled himself. If he died, he would die with some dignity. He tried his best to live by his own words. _The Resistance will not be intimidated by you._

Moments later he was in a heist with the Storm Trooper. He had said he could fly anything, which he truly did believe. And he was back on autopilot, doing everything possible to complete his mission. Trying his damn best to live up to the title of, "the best pilot in the Resistance," that everyone but him seemed to think he deserved.

* * *

The end.

Like I said, a bit of tag to my other Poe story. This was the other idea that was in my head when I wrote He Could Fly Anything. I seem to have a tendency to latch onto single lines from the movie and further explore. Poe is a bit discouraged in this one, but who wouldn't be, really?

Please Review! Seriously, I judge if my writing was decent at all by if I get a review. Even if you just said you read it, that would make me happy.

-Dani


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